


Worthy to be Smooched

by Neverever



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: First Dates, Getting Together, Insecurity, M/M, Nervousness, Pseudo-History
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 07:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18773980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/pseuds/Neverever
Summary: Steve finally finally has landed the date of a lifetime with Tony. Except he knows he's going to blow it big time. And what's worse, no one seems to care that Steve is different from Captain America.





	Worthy to be Smooched

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/gifts).
  * Inspired by [First Date [Art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18755107) by [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/pseuds/Cachette). 



> Written for the 2019 Captain America-Iron Man Reverse Big Bang. I was inspired by [Cachette's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/pseuds/Cachette) amazing, sweet, and adorable art. The art can be seen [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18755107) and [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18755146). Thank you so much, Cachette, it was a joy and inspiration to work with you.
> 
> As ever, big thanks to my beta, armsplutonic.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/160239946@N03/33925555588/in/dateposted/)

For some reason the braintrust at the American Heroes Network decided to run a week-long marathon of Captain America-themed shows. Which Clint thought that Steve should of course know about, and maybe watch if he was interested. Because Clint intended to watch the whole marathon start to finish.

With nothing better to do that afternoon, Steve sat on the living room couch, reading through SHIELD reports and staring in shock at the third episode of the Captain America serial done right after the war. The one where the writers and director of the serial apparently had decided that Captain America was a super smooth ladies’ man who could sweep anyone off their feet. With an extra dash of patriotism.

“Wow, they sure didn’t base that on any real history,” Sam said when the episode ended. He’d joined because he needed to research his paper for his college history class.

For one thing, the Captain America in that old serial was infinitely more suave and charming around people than one Steve Rogers, who had only just this week landed the date of a lifetime by the skin of his teeth.

“Did you even get back to New York during the war? At all?”

“No,” Steve said. “A pass to London every now and then. That stopped in ‘44.”

Clint laughed. “According to the show, you’re in New York every other week, when you’re not punching Hitler. Wearing snazzy formal wear for all those swanky nightclub visits. You don’t own a tux now, and you’ve got those charity gala things every other week.”

“The next episode is about an undercover USO mission,” Sam said. “I thought this channel was supposed to be about military history.”

“Hasn’t been for a long time,” Clint said.

“The USO is military related,” Steve grumped. “That show should have had the actors go undercover with a Red Cross clubmobile. We nearly got banned from those. Bucky and the Howlies ate every donut they could get their hands on during a weekend leave in London.”

Clint and Sam did a double-take. “They would have banned Captain America?” Sam asked. “Captain America?”

“To that Red Cross director, I wasn’t much different from all the other guys when it came to donuts. They were great donuts.”

Sam said, “They don’t cover that in America History.”

“They sure don’t.” Clint pulled up a menu on the television screen. “Huh, I thought that they were supposed to be running captions with the real facts during the episodes -- that’s what the commercial said. Oh wait, after the final episode, they have a roundtable special with historians debunking the show. It’s the bio-pics that have the captions.” Clint snorted. “Want to see that, Steve? See how many things the serial and the historians got wrong? You’re the ultimate fact-checker.”

The show droned on in the background as Steve turned to his reports. Sam tapped on his laptop. “Is this where that urban legend about fondue came from, Cap? Is that true?”

Steve snapped out of his daydream about Tony. He’d been distracted like that for the past day or two as he counted down the days to their First Official Real Date. “What? Fondue?”

“Yeah. The story that Captain America thought that fondue meant sex. I always thought it was a joke. It would make sense if it came from this show. My paper is about historical myth-making and I thought --”

Despite wanting to save whatever scraps of dignity he had left, Steve sighed. “No. It’s not a joke. And Steve Rogers said it.” He couldn’t look either Sam or Clint in the eye.

“Right. Shouldn’t have brought it up,” Sam finally said. “Is that supposed to be Peggy Carter, co-founder of SHIELD?”

He looked back at the screen as the actress playing Peggy sashayed across the screen in a chorus girl outfit, followed by the Howling Commandos, less two members. Peggy would never have dressed up like that at all, and it was insulting that Jones and Morita weren’t even in this terrible serial. 

“Wow,” Clint said. “That’s one bad special ops mission -- dressing you all up as USO performers. Good thing Nat’s not here -- she’d have an aneurysm.”

Never mind Nat, Steve was having one. Maybe it was a blessing that he’d missed this serial and all the other adaptations of his life story while he was frozen in the ice. Especially that soppy 1952 biopic, whose summary set Steve’s teeth on edge and a vein popping on his temple and he’d never even seen it. Clint had mentioned it would be coming up as part of the marathon later on.

“Hey, Steve, what was it like juggling two girlfriends and a possible love interest during the war?” Clint asked, pointing at the screen. Serial Cap was romancing a USO chorus girl.

“I have to go work out,” Steve muttered as he gathered up his stuff. 

~~~~~

It was Wednesday and Steve had only a few days to figure out where to take Tony on their date on Saturday.

Four days to locate the perfect location, the perfect activity, the perfect restaurant, the perfect outfit to convince Tony that Steve was a excellent bet in life. Steve Rogers, not Captain America. The Steve that was taking Tony Stark, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist and Iron Man, out on a real, honest-to-god date. Not let’s-grab-some-pizza after a mission, or talk over a cup of coffee after a team meeting or Avengers movie night. A real date outside the Tower in clean, unbloody clothes. Just them, together, alone. Hopefully no supervillains.

Oh god, he was going to blow it big time.

Contrary to popular expectations, Steve was not suave or even marginally competent around people he was falling for. He’d get tongue-tied and unable to talk about anything more than the weather. Or he’d stand around awkwardly. Or worse, babble on pointlessly.

Peggy had found him charming and had been willing to take a chance on awkward, babbling Steve Rogers. Now he was hoping that lightning could somehow strike twice.

Tony was special. He was more than special. Steve didn’t know when he had stopped thinking of Tony as just his best friend and started thinking Tony could be much much more. Maybe it was after the team punched Thanos into cosmic jail. Maybe it was when Tony first offered up his new tower for the team’s headquarters. 

Steve thought he might try the internet for advice.

Ten minutes and one search engine later, Steve shut down the browser as fast he could. Searching the internet for dating advice was terrible. With extra malware to boot.

Maybe he should start with something simple and basic.

~~~~~

“So, um, Tony. Where do you want to go for our date?”

“Anywhere,” Tony said.

He was obviously distracted, considering that he was head-deep in a pile of machinery, a fused collection of Iron Man suits left over from the Ultron attacks. Steve should have waited to ask a less-distracted Tony. But he had tracked Tony down in order to ask the question and Saturday was fast approaching. He needed answers.

“A favorite dinner place? Or movie?”

“Sounds good.” Something metallic snapped loudly and clicked and rattled as it fell down the pile. “Come back here, you little rat-bastard piece of metal --”

“An exhibit? Bowling?”

“Great.” Tony backed away from the pile, brushed his greasy hands off on his jeans, and noticed a nick on his thumb. He offered his thumb to Steve. “Kiss and make it better?” he teased.

Before he’d asked Tony out, Steve didn’t think that Tony flirted with him. Now he caught the edge to Tony’s teasing and the glint in his brown eyes and the swooping feeling in his stomach as he took Tony’s hand in his. He gave Tony’s thumb a quick peck. “Better?”

“Always,” Tony warmly responded. “You know, we could wait to see how we feel on Saturday and decide what to do then. Make it up as we go.”

Steve arched an eyebrow. “Like how you fight a supervillain?”

“Not everything needs a plan, Steve,” Tony snarked back as he reached for a wrench. “We’re going on a date, not invading France.”

“Right.”

“Spontaneity isn’t a bad word.” He shook the wrench at Steve.

Steve watched Tony pick his way through the pile of fused armor, admiring the view. Unlike Tony, he was not going to wake up Saturday without a plan. They’d end up having pizza and movie night with the team or going out to eat with the whole team if they didn’t have a plan. Basically, everyone would end up on the date with them. There was a reason Steve specifically asked Tony out, on a date, by themselves. He didn’t want to fight Thor for the last breadstick or listen to Clint talk about his latest arguments with SHIELD when he wanted to focus his whole attention on Tony.

Yeah, talking to Tony was in no way helpful. Steve was on his own.

~~~~~

A week ago, the day had started with an ordinary mission. Squadron Supreme were up to no good outside New Orleans. Natasha was flying the quinjet while Tony and Steve mapped out a battle plan with the team. Sam was explaining various weak spots of Darkhawk’s team with the occasional SHIELD intel comment from Natasha. Tony was flicking a paper triangle between his fingers as he listened intently, sitting as he always did next to Steve.

Steve wasn’t expecting a good day of it. At best, it would be a slog to defeat them. At worse, the Avengers would have their asses handed to them a couple of times before they ultimately took the Squadron down. 

Tony nudged him. “I never thought you’d look this bored before a fight.”

“No, thinking. It’s the Squadron Supreme, it’s never boring.” 

“I bet you that we’ll be out of here in five hours.” Tony held up his hands and waggled his fingers and thumb at Steve.

“Five?” Steve rubbed his chin. The last time they’d fought the Squadron, it had taken about six hours.

“Call me ambitious,” Tony said, as he nudged Steve’s shoulder.

Steve’s brain went fuzzy at Tony’s dazzling smile. “Four.”

“Four? You sure about that, Cap?”

No, Steve was not sure about that, but now he was going to wrap up the mission in four hours, come hell or high water. “What’s on the line?”

“Hmmm. Yankees game.”

“You hate the Yankees too,” Steve replied with a grin.

“If I win, you have to go to a Red Sox at Yankees game, which I know you’ll hate. I get to pick the date and the time and place -- that includes Boston.”

“If I win --” Steve couldn’t quite think of anything at same level as Tony’s offering. Tony was going to hold out until late in the summer when one team or the other was in pennant contention and Steve would be gritting his teeth over it. Except he would probably love every minute of going to the game, because he would be spending time with Tony. “If I win, we’ll go to that bar you don’t like, the one around the corner from the Tower. Wild Fish Bar and Grill.”

Tony laughed. “Sounds like a cheap date there, Steve.”

“During the Superbowl.”

“Right.” Tony shook his head. “That’s real low, Steve.”

They’d gone to the Wild Fish Bar and Grill once, late at night, and it had been a bad idea because they were both exhausted and sweaty from a SHIELD training exercise. Tony had pulled jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt out of his week-old laundry and Steve was wearing paint-covered clothes he’d thrown into his to-go bag six months ago. The place was busy and filled with people who hadn’t spent the day fighting out-of-control SHIELD robots and they’d miraculously found a couple of empty seats. 

Tony complained about football being on every single screen in the bar. “You know, someone once said that football combined the two worst things about America -- committee meetings interrupted by violence.”

“It’s not that bad,” Steve countered. “There’s strategy.”

“You find strategy in everything, including laundry day.” Then the guy sitting next to Tony spilled his beer all over Tony’s jeans.

Steve helped Tony mop up the mess. “You want to go home?” he asked, hoping that Tony wouldn’t want to end the night, even if he now smelled like the bar floor. Steve could overlook that and more if only Tony would stay.

“And what, hang out listening to Hulk and Thor having an eating contest? I’m good. Let’s order more beer. And food, I’m beyond hungry.”

They laughed and ate and drank beer until closing time. When they left, the cold air stung Steve’s cheeks and without thinking he put his jacket over Tony’s shoulders. If he’d taken a step to the right or slightly brushed their hands, Steve would have kissed Tony right there under the streetlights on their way home. But they were home before Steve could muster up the courage and they went to different beds on different floors.

In between slamming the shield into Darkhawk’s backside and thumping Hyperion with an assist from Thor, Steve made up his mind. Losing or winning the bet was a surefire way to spend non-team-related time with Tony. But he wanted something more, so he made a plan.

After the Avengejet landed and the rest of the team dispersed, but before he got out of the uniform and hit the showers, Steve found Tony doing a final check of the jet, like he always did at the end of a mission. “How about you and me on a date?”

Tony fumbled the wrench in his hand. “Excuse me?”

Steve took a deep breath. “Date, you and me.” 

“When?” 

“Next Saturday.”

“Okay,” Tony said. “Yeah, sure, okay.” He took a deep breath, face pale and hand rubbing up and down his thigh. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m free that night.”

“Good.” Steve swallowed and nodded. “Great. Going to join the team for dinner?”

“Yep. After I finish up here.”

“I’m going to get a shower first.”

“We all could do with showers and food. You know, because people hallucinate when they don’t have food or sleep. And get a medical check in case of concussion or Dr. Spectrum changing reality again, in case they might be hearing things.”

Steve floated for the rest of the evening and into the morning, when it really sunk in that he had asked Tony out on a date. A real date. Them. Together, on a date. After the initial panic, he reminded himself that he’d fought through World War II, he could do this. A date with a person he’d been crushing on for years. They would have a great time like they usually did, except maybe with added kissing. 

What could possibly go wrong? Knowing himself, everything. Everything could go wrong.

~~~~~

Three days left now.

On Thursday morning, he went through his to-do list for Tony’s date over his oatmeal. He still did not have the perfect location, the perfect activity, or the perfect restaurant. At least he had a shot to secure the perfect outfit. He’d blocked out the entire morning for clothes shopping. Which he loathed; but this wasn’t a shirt, t-shirt and jeans event.

Natasha was sitting across from him, eating yogurt and angling to invite herself along on Steve’s clothing expedition. “What did you do for dates before the war?”

Steve sighed. “Guys would bring me along when they needed a friend for their girl’s friend. I had a couple of dates -- the movies once -- ice cream date for another. A group of us went out to Coney Island once.”

“Doesn’t sound hard to me -- do that with Tony and you’ll be fine.”

“I go and do those things with Tony all the time. This is a date, a real one.”

“Gotcha. Grabbing a slice is different on a real date.”

“Nat. This is everything to me.” Steve stumbled over the words. “He’s something -- something special. Deserves the best.”

“Cosmo or whatever trash you’re reading isn’t going to help.” Nat plucked the pages out of Steve’s hands. “Back to clothes -- what were you thinking?”

Honestly, Steve still felt occasionally that he was wearing his underwear out on the street when he was wearing a t-shirt and cargo shorts. He even felt a little naked sometimes without a proper hat. Tony rated a new hat purchase, at least. “Don’t know. Something nice. Something I haven’t worn before.”

“Rules out gym clothes,” she teased. “We’ve all seen you a thousand times in those clothes.”

What Steve wanted were clothes that made him look great, like someone worthy of being smooched by the greatest guy in the universe.

“The other problem is that we’ve all seen you in some variation of jeans, t-shirt, and leather jacket a thousand times too. Maybe it’s time to mix it up.”

“Mix it up?”

“Where were you going to go?”

“Macy’s?” He felt safe picking Macy’s, he’d shopped there even before the war.

Natasha swept a despairing look over him. She picked up her yogurt cup. “You’ve convinced me -- I’ll help you find a date outfit.”

They didn’t go to Macy’s. They didn’t go to any place that Steve had ever heard about. They went to a place where Natasha regularly shopped. He doubted that he would fit in any of the pants on the sparse rack in front of him and glanced up at the clerk who also clearly had the same thoughts. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked Nat.

“Hmmm.” She was pushing button up shirts on a nearby rack back and forth, looking like she was annoyed by the selection. She turned to the clerk and asked, “Do you have any suggestion for a place --”

“Men’s Wearhouse.” the man gushed. “Try there. Or DXL.”

“We’re shopping for him,” Natasha said, pointing at Steve like he was an exotic creature. Which he probably was for this store, given the sizes on the racks. “He’s in his mid twenties. He usually orders his clothes in bulk from the internet without considering style. But he has a hot date on Saturday and doesn’t want to look like he’s walked out of the Land’s End catalog or like he’s someone’s grandfather.”

The clerk gave Steve an appraising look. “Try Enzo Custom or Proper Cloth. But you might have to wait for tailoring.” Natasha and he huddled over his phone. “That place is an option too,” he said.

“Thanks.”

Outside the store, Nat pulled up the locations in her phone and grumbled, “I should have done this first. Except I think that these places do actual tailoring and not off the rack. Well, let’s try this one.”

A few blocks over, Nat hustled Steve out of the town car and into a store that he didn’t see the name of. Nat didn’t hesitate. “This guy has a hot date on Saturday, doesn’t want to look like any one’s grandfather or a kindergarten teacher, and we have a black AmEx so cost is not an issue.” She then pushed an embarrassed Steve towards the clerks.

It was a good thing that it was a slow Thursday morning for the retail staff. Natasha was set up in a large brown leather chair with hot tea and her phone while Steve stood in front of a mirror like an enormous paper doll. Patrick and Ryan, the clerks in the store, pulled out a collection of trousers, shirts, a couple of vests and suit coats, sweaters, and belts.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/160239946@N03/47013348384/in/dateposted/)

If Patrick and Ryan recognized Steve as Captain America and Nat as Black Widow, they didn’t let on. Nat always said that was the benefit of living in New York among thousands of celebrities and wanna-be celebrities. Famous people were as common as dirt. Steve was just a guy looking for something nicer than gym sweats.

They gently talked Steve into trying clothes that he didn’t think would work on him. He wasn’t a fashion model and certainly not as ‘with it’ as Tony. He smiled, thinking of Tony and how he just knew everything about everything. Steve honestly thought that was the hottest thing about Tony, how smart he was. 

RyanPatrick, as Steve began to think of the exceedingly kind retail staff, talked him into trying a grey pair of trousers, matched with a blue silk shirt and matching vest. The shirt was too big, the pants too tight, the vest didn’t sit right across his chest. But he felt good in the outfit. He stood a little straighter, pushed his hair into place, and wondered when he’d started looking like a movie star from the movies he’d loved pre-war. Cary Grant-good, and not Steve Rogers-schlubby. 

And clearly RyanPatrick and Natasha felt the same way with the broad smiles on their faces. Nat said, “Get that.”

Steve looked back in the mirror. “What about a tie? Maybe a hat?”

“No hat. No one wears hats, Steve, unless you’re Sam’s grandfather,” Nat said. “A tie, yes. You’ve got a lot of events that need one. Not on your date with Tony.”

“You wear the collar open. Like this,” RyanPatrick said, fiddling with the collar. They pinned up the vest and shirt and stepped back. The image of Steve in the mirror still took his breath away. That wasn’t Steve Rogers in that mirror. Someone else. 

RyanPatrick showed him ties and suit coats and fussed over the tailoring of the clothes. They promised they could get it done by Saturday morning and would send the outfit and a few other pieces over to the Tower. Steve did get a knowing look and eyebrow raise when he handed over the black AmEx and gave the delivery address. 

“Thank you, Captain America,” RyanPatrick said as he handed back the card. “You saved my cousin’s family from a collapsing building a few months ago when Attuma attacked.”

Steve nearly asked which one in particular, given that Attuma seemed to attack every other month. Instead, Steve gave the usual reply of aw shucks and a handshake. Couldn’t ever really leave the shield and myth at home, even in New York.

Because of Steve’s grumbly stomach, they stopped for lunch at an Avengers-favorite restaurant, where they wouldn’t question Steve ordering food for three.

“Have you decided where you’re taking Tony?” Nat asked.

“Don’t know.”

“That outfit rules out a lot of places. I don’t think you’d go to a dive bar in that. Clint might -- he’s not picky.”

Steve huffed. He’d have to figure it out by Saturday. “A nice restaurant, I think. Something Tony likes. To start with. Talking about Clint -- we need to find a new training routine -- he’s not being challenged at all.”

They talked about Clint and bringing in Sam and Thor to change up the training routines during lunch and into dessert. Steve liked the cheesecake here. Bruce had mentioned going to a dessert and coffee restaurant during a recent conference in Los Angeles. That might be a good idea -- it’d be romantic -- and there had to be a place like that in New York. JARVIS would know.

Nat speared a piece of Steve’s cheesecake. “Things have changed since the 30s with dating, you know. You don’t have to worry about sex on the first date. Just sayin’.”

Actually, Steve would like very much to bang Tony like a screen door in a hurricane. He had absolutely no objection to that. “Uh huh,” he replied noncommittally. 

“I hope that SHIELD explained sexual health --” Steve locked eyes with Natasha, who for once broke down into nervous laughter. “Okay, fine, I’m not going any further with this. I’m not going to explain to Captain America --”

“The Army made us watch movies on how to prevent syphilis and gonorrhea during the war. Dum-dum Dugan told funny and real filthy jokes when the docs talked about condoms.” 

“I don’t know if you’re trolling or not when you have a completely straight face like that.”

“People had sex in the 30s. For the record,” Steve continued.

“But not Captain America. He didn’t. Wait -- didn’t you film one of those movies, telling the guys to keep it in their pants?”

“That’s a myth. I didn’t have time for public service announcements. Besides Captain America doesn’t talk about sex. As you said.” He looked mournfully down at the remains of his cheesecake. 

“Bet you that Captain America would like a second dessert,” Nat teased.

“If you don’t mind. I have a long workout planned for the afternoon. And it’s Steve Rogers who wants the turtle cheesecake.”

~~~~~

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/160239946@N03/33925558688/in/photostream/)

Tony had apparently camped out in his workshop for the entire week. Not that it was unusual for Tony to spend hours there. But he did tend to come up for air, food, and a shower during his work. This week was different. For some reason, he had a burning need to rip into the piles of fused armor left behind by Ultron. After the clean-up from that mess, the team had stowed the piles in the cavernous store rooms in the basement of the Tower, and now Tony was methodically tearing each and every one of them into parts and scrap.

Steve watched Tony artfully chisel away pieces from a pile. Tony had stripped down to his black tank top and work pants, which were reinforced to ward off sparks and sharp edges, and cupped his ass in just the right way. Tony backed away to turn off his welding gun and push up his goggles, leaving traces of grime on his face and shoulders. Steve could lick it right off, given the right opening.

“I wanted to know when you’d like to go out on Saturday --”

“I don’t have anything scheduled except for an appearance at a company charity run that morning.”

“Hmm, yeah. How about 6? Would that work?”

“Sure.” Tony pulled down the goggles, ready to head back into the fray.

Steve wasn’t ready to leave, especially with Tony looking so attractive. And they hadn’t really talked since Steve asked him out. “Is it going well? The project?”

Tony shoved the goggles back to the top of his head. “I don’t know,” he replied, rubbing his chin. “There’s no Ultron bits left, but we knew that. Today, I’ve freed about three armors, an X-box, and Sam’s missing laptop.”

“What --”

“I don’t think Sam’s going want his laptop back in five pieces. I’ll recycle everything.”

“So tomorrow -- 6 is fine?”

“I’ll be ready. Can’t stand up Captain America,” Tony replied. “It’s a date with the living legend himself.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “You think Captain America asked you out on a date?”

“You were wearing the uniform at the time and you look like him. So yeah,” Tony replied. 

A chill swept over Steve. Okay. He got it now. It wasn’t a Tony and Steve date, it was a Tony and Cap date. 

“Okay. I’ll see you at 6 on Saturday.”

“Great,” Tony replied distractedly, already lost in his welding before Steve had even turned to go.

~~~~~

After that, it just seemed easier to plan the date. Steve made a reservation at Tony’s favorite Chinese restaurant near the Tower. He would wear the clothes he’d bought the other day. And he still liked the idea about going to a dessert restaurant afterward and discovered a place that they could walk to after the Chinese place. Then they could go home. An early night, which was not what was in the cards earlier in the week, but Steve had lost his enthusiasm for the whole business. 

Strange that even now, people wanted someone other than him. He’d had dates back in the 30s with women who were disappointed when he showed up instead of the person his friends had sold them on, though Steve was that person. And now his dates expected Captain America, though Steve wasn’t Captain America when he wasn’t in the uniform. He was just Steve Rogers, gainfully employed, well read, athletic, respectful, and ready for a long-term relationship.

Too bad Tony turned out to be like the others.

Still, Steve was an optimist, and maybe they’d have a little fun on the date after all. Tony was a good friend, and they always had a fantastic time together, even if it wasn’t going to lead to anything else.

~~~~~

Steve spent most of Saturday morning running his weekly marathon, followed up by some weight training in the Tower gym. Even after the intense workout, Steve still felt prickly and vaguely unhappy. He’d have to work himself out of this attitude if he was going to be decent company that night.

As for Tony, he had been AWOL since Friday afternoon, still entirely consumed by the tricky problems of untangling his Ultron-fused armor and machinery. Nat had talked about mounting a rescue operation to save Tony from himself. 

“Assuming he doesn’t show up for your date,” she teased Steve on the rowing machine. “But you don’t have to worry about that -- he’s not going to miss that for the world.”

Steve grunted in reply as he worked the machine. Tony was planning on Cap showing up when it was only going to be Steve. He felt a sudden rush of qualms and worries about the date going off the rails once Tony took his measure and found Steve wanting. At least he could count on Tony being nice about it. Steve shouldn’t have asked him out.

After his brutal workout, it was only one in the afternoon. He had a couple of hours to kill before getting ready for the date. Steve headed to the kitchen for an after-workout snack and to check if his clothes had arrived yet.

“Hey, Steve,” Sam called from the living room. “Clint and I are watching more of that Captain America marathon and I have questions.”

“What?” Steve looked at the brightly colored figures on the screen but couldn’t quite place what was going on with the Cap in the pajamas.

“It’s a series from the early 80s. Captain America and friends sort of thing,” Clint explained. “A bit before my time.”

Steve walked closer to the television wondering how this series would show World War II. From what he could see on the screen, he glumly guessed that it would be wildly inaccurate at best. The trucks weren’t right. “I didn’t know about this one.”

“Good thing -- it’s awful,” Clint opined. “Otherwise we’d have to break out the brain bleach.” He gave Steve a sideways look. “Assuming brain bleach could erase your perfect memory.”

“Hey -- I’ve done some research on this show, Captain America and the Howling Commandos,” Sam said. “For my paper on media depictions of Captain America over the years and how television and radio images changed to reflect pop culture and contemporary perceptions of Captain America.”

Steve pondered how many television and radio shows and movies they had made about Captain America. The idea was profoundly disturbing and best left alone. And he was going to work very hard to forget he’d ever heard about Sam’s paper.

“That’s a real solid paper idea, Sam,” Natasha agreed. She had come up behind Steve, ready for her afternoon yoga class. “This came for you.” She handed a package to Steve.

Steve noticed that the package that was addressed: Captain America, Stark Tower. For one thing, Stark Tower had a real street address. The other thing was that Captain America didn’t need to buy clothes. He had a uniform that was issued by the Army and later by the Avengers and hadn’t changed in years. Steve Rogers needed clothes. He need clothes to wear for his date, who thought he was going out with Captain America. 

“What the hell?” he said out loud.

“Yeah, what the hell is this, Sam?” Clint said gesturing at the screen.

Sam tapped on his laptop as Steve and Clint stared at the show on the tv. It was the same Captain America show, since it had the same main actor parading across the screen in the red, white and blue uniform. But not set in World War II. Sam read out loud, “Ratings weren’t good for the first season. The producers decided to move the show to the present day through some sort of time travel. In the season premiere, Captain America gets trapped in a HYDRA time-travel experiment and finds himself in the ‘future.’ He teams up with descendents of the Howling Commandos and has a new love interest.”

“Steve, please don’t set the television on fire,” Natasha said to a furious, glaring Steve.

“It’s not like anyone ever thought that you’d be found alive,” Clint added gently.

Another television show all about Captain America. A Captain America who had no problem flirting, or adjusting to the future of 1983, or any other time. Was this what people really thought of him? That he slept with an American flag in one arm and the shield in the other? 

Bruce and Tony walked into the living room. “Hey, I remember this -- I used to see this in reruns after school,” Bruce said. “What episode is this -- the one with Red Skull’s grandson?” Then Bruce actually sat down next to Clint, ready to watch the show.

“Red Skull’s grandson?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bruce replied. “It’s like a three-part story -- I never got to see the second part, maybe once. They always played the first and third part in reruns.”

The episode ended with Captain America spouting off platitudes about following the American dream, answering the phone with ‘Hello, Captain America here’ to Dum-Dum Dugan the Third, and then going to bed in flag-themed pajamas in his red, white and blue apartment. Steve did not like this Captain America at all and was actively rooting for a supervillain to paint his apartment black. “Wait -- is this all Captain America all the time?”

“Hmm, I don’t remember if Cap ever had a civilian identity in this -- he was always Cap,” Bruce said. 

“So, Captain America, how many flags do you have in your room?” Clint asked. “Is this historically accurate enough?”

“I AM STEVE ROGERS. NOT ALWAYS CAPTAIN AMERICA,” Steve shouted. 

Well, he thought he had spoken in a relatively calm voice. But apparently not, given the sudden silence and the frozen-in-place teammates.

After a long silence, Clint said, “If we need a replacement for Hulk, I nominate Angry Steve.” Everyone nodded.

Tony tugged on Steve’s sleeve. “Okay there, buddy?”

Steve sighed. “If I didn’t get to be Steve outside the uniform, I would have gone crazy by ‘42.” He waved in the direction of the television. “Do people really think I’m like that? Do you think I’m like that?”

Tony looked at him fondly. “No. Captain America likes vanilla ice cream and you like Butter Pecan. Big difference. Then there’s the turtle cheesecake addiction -- that’s not very Cap-like.”

“You said you were going on a date with --”

“You. I’m going on a date with you. It was a bad joke, just like this show.” 

“Right.” Steve could feel his shoulders loosen up and his whole body relax as Tony smiled at him. “Right.”

“See you at 6. I gotta go get ready.”

“Yeah.” Although Steve couldn’t quite imagine what Tony needed to do -- he already looked smashing in the Stark Industries power suit, as Tony called it. 

As Steve appreciatively watched Tony walk away towards the elevator, the butterflies and the queasy nervous feeling roared back to life. This date was going to kill him deader than Red Skull ever could. Had to impress Tony after all, since it was all on Steve’s shoulders now if this little flame could become a fire.

Natasha tapped him on the elbow. “Don’t you have to take a shower or something, since you have a hot date tonight?”

Steve smiled broadly. “Sure do.”

~~~~~

At the dessert restaurant, Tony teased Steve when he ordered three different cheesecake slices. “I don’t know how you have any room left over from dinner.”

Steve laughed. “Always room for dessert.”

“For those who run daily marathons and bench press elephants. Not so much for us mere mortals.”

He could lose himself in Tony’s sparkling eyes. He offered Tony the last of the decadent chocolate cheesecake. Tony leaned forward and ate the cheesecake off Steve’s fork, sending a little shiver down Steve’s spine and heating his cheeks. 

Tony sat back, a knowing glint in his eye, and threw his arm over the back of the booth. His silk maroon shirt collar slipped open and Steve liked the glimpse of bare skin he could see. “This is perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Yeah.” Tony swirled his neon drink. “I’d been so worried about this date.”

Steve shook his head in disbelief. “You?” 

Tony sniggered. “Surprising, right? I’d been hoping for so long that maybe you might be interested. I couldn’t believe you actually, for realsies, asked me out. The only way I could cope was burying myself in my workshop because I was convinced I was going to blow my chance with you.”

“Never. You could never blow your chances with me.” 

They fell silent for the first time that night, lost in each other. Tony finally broke the spell. “We could talk about this in detail back at the tower.”

“Asking me back to your place to see your etchings?” Steve teased.

“Maybe more than that if you play your cards right.”

Steve didn’t wait one block to pull Tony to the side so he could kiss him. A heated, slick press of lips that left both of them panting.

He squeezed Tony’s hand in his. Maybe he didn’t have to worry at all. “Let’s head home and see what happens.”


End file.
